by Max Migdail
i am not the flower
flowers are beautiful things but we
know only half i wonder what bees see
as they go bud to bud and petal to
petal all the bees seem to seek only
flowers previously visited one comes
one leaves and not one minute later but
a second visitor has come to spread good
tidings and now a third and fourth all
while the door next by remains un
disturbed burke says we seek to control that
which is beautiful but never have
i asked anything of a flower not
even love do i not find flowers
pleasureful five six seven visitors
step away and the ground breathes i get the
sense there is a spectrum i do not see
a co-evolved runway made just for our
special little friends who carry us from
one to another it’s a ritual
known only to them in which i cannot
not participate for i shall grow
more beautiful and vast than hell itself
Future Histories 